


A Work of Art

by scandalsavage



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Contracts, Creepy Bruce, Drug Use - dubious consent, Genital Piercing, M/M, Manipulation, Nipple Piercings, Piercings, Sedation, Sugar Daddy, Tattoo Artist Bruce, Tattoos, Tongue Piercings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: Bruce has an eye for beautiful things and how they can be...improved. And he has the tendency to get what he wants.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 18
Kudos: 242





	A Work of Art

**Author's Note:**

> A long over due request from Ride-the-Bifrost on Tumblr. Sorry it took so long. It ended up bigger than I expected and I didn’t want to keep you waiting so here’s the first of two chapters ❤️

Gotham has three days of crisp, bright perfectly temperate days in late spring of each year before the suffocating, sweltering heat of summer drives away happiness with all the ease of the harsh grey winters. 

That's when Bruce sees him for the first time. Tapered silhouette cutting a mouth watering picture as the sun casts a halo of light over his dark, cherubic curls. 

He's carrying a tray of canapes like all the other young, attractive people hired by the catering company for the annual Wayne Foundation Charity Picnic. Their uniforms are, per Bruce's instruction, fitted and flattering with light, loose transparent fabrics and plunging necklines for all. 

It’s his skin that catches Bruce’s eye. Soft and smooth as satin like he wouldn’t know what body hair was if someone showed him. Bruce doesn’t know if he waxes or if he was just fortunate enough to be born with perfect genes. 

Bruce lingers at the boy’s tray. He’s not subtle about the way his gaze wanders over the wide expanse of the glistening skin of his chest, up the bared throat to flushed cheeks and pointedly averted gemstone eyes. 

That’s all it takes for obsession to take root. 

* * *

It’s not difficult to learn the kid’s name.

Even easier to methodically tear down his entire world.

Jason Todd has already been evicted when he finds out there was a problem with his tuition payment that leaves him broke and without options.

It’s fate that in his anger—and maybe a little drunk—the kid throws his phone across the bathroom of the bar Bruce has followed him into, and nearly brains him.

The younger man breaks down there, on the grimy tile, as Bruce assures him that everything will be okay.

* * *

In the end, Jason doesn’t like the terms of the contract. But he has no where else to go and Bruce’s terms are... not _entirely_ unreasonable.

It’s sex of course. The kid is too beautiful in a jagged edges sort of way, rough and unrefined like an uncut diamond. Bruce can hardly be expected to keep his hands to himself. In return for access to his body and abiding Bruce’s rules, Jason gets a place to stay and all of Alfred’s gourmet cooking that he can stomach. 

But it’s not just that. 

Jason hesitates when he reads the rest of the contract, the part that gets him his all important tuition and a stipend. 

“This... this gives you a lot of power over me,” he’d complains, face twisted in concern. “I don’t know you well enough for any of this.”

“As I said, you can refuse to sign any section you don’t feel comfortable signing,” Bruce says evenly. And it’s true, Jason can refuse it. But Bruce knows he won’t. Bruce linked the thing Jason _really_ wants to the thing Bruce himself wants most.

The kid chews the inside of his cheek, obviously fighting an internal battle. His brows are pinched, eyes narrowed, and Bruce would tell him to stop before he gets lines on his face if he wasn’t so adorable deep in thought.

“What kind of ‘body modifications’ are you talking about?” Jason looks extremely torn. His life has just fallen apart and Bruce is offering to help put it back together again. For a price. 

“Anything more extreme than piercings requires a separate agreement and can be determined on a case by case basis,” Bruce explains, letting his imagination run wild with thoughts of what he’ll do to that body when Jason is more pliable. “It’s all stated plainly in the contract, Jason.”

Well, as plainly as legalese gets. Jason doesn’t have an attorney but he’s a smart kid. Bruce has no doubts he knows exactly what he’s reading.

Bruce’s fingers twitch when Jason licks his lip and draws it between his teeth. He’s itching to get a taste. 

“Can we eighty-six the sedation bit?” The kid asks hopefully. 

Bruce understands his worry but... “Afraid not. You’ve never done anything like this before. If you’re a squirmer, I have to have the option of keeping you still so you don’t ruin my work.”

Jason gnaws on his lip more forcefully. So Bruce reaches out and cups a hand to his face. 

The boy stiffens at his touch but Bruce is confident that he’ll soon become more comfortable. 

With his thumb, he tugs that plush lip free from the teeth before Jason splits it, and swipes back and forth along the gently curved line of it.

“I’m not going to hurt you, son,” he purrs, deep and comforting. It’s certainly a promising sign that Jason shudders as his eyelids flutter closed. “The contract protects us both.”

Jason doesn’t look fully convinced when he opens his eyes, accidentally meeting Bruce’s for a split second before he took away. But he swallows hard and signs the paperwork anyway.

* * *

They start slowly.

Bruce allows Jason to wear snug boxer-briefs, black with “WAYNE” printed in obvious yellow lettering across the band, until he becomes more accustomed to his contractually obligated nudity within the manor. 

As much as Bruce would like to see all that gorgeous skin exposed, he’s not complaining. Jason’s facade of confidence crumbles immediately upon his arrival. Every time he runs into Bruce he flushes pink from the tips of his ears to his nipples, and turns scarlet every time he sees Alfred. It’s sweet and Bruce happy to savor it.

It takes a while but eventually Jason does start to feel more comfortable. Bruce doesn’t press for anything more than Jason’s presence at his side every night. And even then he’s a gentle and considerate lover. Touching that creamy smooth, unmarred skin with tenderness and reverence. Worships the boy’s body every night. Watches him sleep, thinking of all the things he’ll do and how beautiful Jason will look at every stage.

Because Jason doesn’t have a single dot of ink on him and only a few small scars (one or two that look vaguely like cigarette burns and Bruce would pay good money to get his hands on whoever marked up his boy’s otherwise perfect flesh) that can be easily incorporated into any number of designs. He’s a perfectly blank canvas. One Bruce doesn’t have to share with anyone else. Jason’s body is his to paint as he pleases. 

About two months in, Bruce tugs the silken sheet off the boy’s hip to admire him fully in the early morning light. Even soft, he has a pretty cock that Bruce can’t wait to get his hands on. His ass is toned and plump. There are fading bruises all over Jason’s body, the marks that have been holding Bruce over until Jason was ready for the ones to come.

He drags his knuckles lightly over the boy’s taut belly, appreciating the way the muscles contract at the delicate touch, and up to thumb at a perky nipple. 

Jason hums contentedly and arches into Bruce’s touch. 

Good.

“I’ve had Alfred move the underwear to your dressing room,” Bruce rumbles, letting his lips brush over Jason’s forehead. 

There’s a brief moment of increased tension in the other’s muscles and Bruce presses the pad of his thumb against the nipple more insistently until he relaxes again. The dressing room in question is where all of Jason’s clothes for school and other function are stored. Only Alfred has the keys and he only unlocks it when Jason needs to enter. 

Until yesterday afternoon, Jason had a drawer in Bruce’s dresser where the boxer-briefs were kept. Now it’s time for the next step.

Jason swallows hard but nods against Bruce’s chest and curls further into the older man’s arms.

Bruce pulls him close and strokes his hand down Jason’s bared back while the other tangles in his hair.

“I’d like to get started on the other part of the contract as well,” Bruce says quietly, waiting for the tension to return. 

But it doesn’t. Jason just gives a resigned little sigh and nods again.

Bruce takes him as he is one last time. One last time with that lovely, unmarked skin. One last time without the adornments Bruce will add to enhance that natural beauty.

He makes slow, deliberate, _deep_ thrusts enjoying the pleased little whines and moans that pass Jason’s lips. And feeling validated for insisting on the sedation clause as Jason is definitely a squirmer.

He allows Jason to come, stroking the boy through it while he rolls his own cock into the younger man’s prostate over and over again, milking him for minutes until he’s run dry. 

It’s the least he can do. Jason won’t be coming again for a long while.

When Jason lies limp and malleable beneath him Bruce spills into him, filling him up before working the wide bulb of a large plug into the boy. 

The knowledge Jason will lay on his table to be recreated in Bruce’s vision, claimed in every way, is powerful and intoxicating. 

He helps Jason out of bed and into the shower. Washes him with unscented soap so that the only thing he can taste and smell is Jason himself.

Finally, with a guiding hand in the small of the boy’s back, watching the swing of Jason’s cock with ever step, out of the corner of his eyes, Bruce leads him to his studio.

The Cave.

It's colder here than the house. His tools are all laid out in tidy rows on metal tables. A larger metal table with straps and stirrups glistens in the bright, sterile light. 

The sight of it all is welcoming and relaxing for Bruce. Even if Jason tenses more the closer he gets. 

Certainly it is not a typical tattooist's arrangement. But Bruce is not a typical artist. His art and his desire go hand in hand, he can't do one without the other. Which is why he has had to resort to these kinds of arrangements. 

He's gotten very good at getting what he wants. 

Jason goes obediently where Bruce guides. He sits stiffly on the long edge of the table, legs swinging nervously in the air, and waits as Bruce readies what he needs. 

"What is it?" Jason asks quietly, eyeing the tab Bruce holds out for him with suspicion.

"This is just a muscle relaxer," he explains. "A strong one. But I'd like for you to be awake for this part, I just can't have you wriggling."

Swallowing, the boy snatches the pill from his hand and takes it quickly. Like he's afraid he'll change his mind if he thinks about it too much. 

The drug acts quickly. Within just a couple minutes the tension bleeds out of Jason's muscles and he goes limp. 

Bruce catches him as he sags and arranges him face up on the table. He starts with the gag. A special spider-gag he had custom made, just for Jason; blood red leather, shiny titanium to match the rest of the jewelry to come. Two metal points rise to the outsides of Jason's straight white teeth, and the "spider legs" are rounded, connected, so that it forms the shape of a bat. Bruce's signature. His identifier. His mark. 

Then he reverently straps down the boy's arms and secure his ankles up in the stirrups, knees bent, legs spread wide for when Bruce needs to work there later.

And for Bruce's admiration. The plug he used was also made, just for Jason, just for this. Another bat, this one with a golden "W" in the center. 

He moves back to the head of the table and tilts it forward. So that Jason is sitting up a bit in a steep recline. The saliva that had already started pooling in his pried open mouth begins to drool out the sides of the gag. 

Bruce smiles down at the boy and dabs some of it away. He likes the sight of it, enhanced by the slow, lazy drag of eyelids over glazed blue-green eyes; Jason boneless and relaxed. Just putty in Bruce's hands, waiting to be molded. But too much saliva will get in the way of his work.

Jason groggily watches Bruce's every move as he brings the small tray over to the side of his work area. Watches, eyes skipping and brow pinched in the effort to concentrate, as Bruce reaches into his mouth with the forceps and pulls out his tongue.

The kid reacts very little to the needle spearing through the muscle. His eyes water a little but he blinks the tears away as Bruce attaches the little titanium balls to each end of the bar and he's fine.

This isn't the location Bruce was worried about. The restraints are for the next ones.

Leaning back a bit, Bruce checks his work. It's simple enough. Like the jewelry. They'll all be simple for now. But once the piercings heal... 

He moves forward again, unable to resist kissing the boy, sucking on his tongue one last time before it swells for the next couple days.

Then it's time to move on.

A swipe of his thumb over Jason's sensitive nipples is all it takes to make the kid jerk and shudder. And it's all it takes to make them perk up and harden.

"Good thing I strapped you down," Bruce purrs, indulging in a few moments to toy with the pink buds. Every little touch has the kid squirming. Every tug has him gasping. "Always so responsive."

Jason can't help but moan when Bruce lowers himself to suck on one, then the other, letting his teeth scrape lightly just to feel Jason arch off the table.

"Perhaps even more so when you're this relaxed."

Pushing the needle through Jason's nipples gives Bruce a great deal of pleasure. Especially when the boy twists in the restraints and whines.

He kisses each one with a light nip as he fixes the metal rings in place.

Finally, he reaches the final act. For today anyway. He doesn’t want to overwhelm the boy with the changes. Not to mention he doesn’t want Jason completely out of commission. He still wants to be able to use the kid each night and these will need time to heal before he starts on the ink.

He’ll need to move quickly. Jason’s cock is semi-hard after the attention Bruce paid the boy’s chest, and the softer it is, the easier it is. 

The urge to stroke the kid to a full erection and suck him down is almost too strong to resist. Only the thought of seeing the whole picture, Jason, all decked out in his new jewelry, squirming against his bindings while Bruce takes him right here, stays his hand.

The kid whimpers and jolts when Bruce pushes the tube up the narrow opening and into his cock. Even gives a soft cry as the needle punches through the thin, sensitive wall of his urethra. He grunts and wriggles as Bruce hooks the circular barbell—black matte titanium— through the new piercing just below the flared head of his dick and back out the tip. 

Placing soothing kisses along the inside of Jason’s thigh, Bruce plays with the plug nestled securely in the kid’s tight, eager hole before removing it completely and pressing his own cock in.

It’s simple so far, but beautiful, he thinks as he rocks into Jason’s warm, pliant body. He can’t wait to upgrade the jewelry. Weights on the nipples, something playful on the tongue so that he can feel it when Jason blows him. 

A cage for the cock that Bruce controls completely. 

Tears are streaking down Jason’s cheeks. It’s too much stimulation for him. Bruce was delighted to find the kid was a bit of a masochist but with the drugs they’re pushing his limits. 

Bruce spills deep inside him, replaces the plug, trapping both loads where they belong. Then he releases the straps, pockets the gag for later, scoops Jason up, and carries him to bed. 

Jason tries weakly to shove away and get up.

So Bruce slips a sleeping pill into his water and makes sure he drinks it. He’s had a long day and needs to rest.

When Jason passes out, Bruce runs his fingers through the curl of white at his forehead. 

He’s so beautiful. Bruce can’t wait for the next steps.


End file.
